


Free and Clear

by QueerGirlTakeover



Series: CreampuffWeek [5]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: CreampuffWeek, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 18:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3179252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerGirlTakeover/pseuds/QueerGirlTakeover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have a midnight picnic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free and Clear

**Free and Clear**

 

“How's that paper going?” Carmilla asked from the doorway.

Laura looked around guiltily, her fic still up on the screen. She groaned and turned around. “It's not. It hasn't been for the past hour.”

“Luck I am here to save you then,” Carmilla said with a smile.

Laura regarded her warily. “What're you gonna do?”

Carmilla shrugged. “We're going out, cutie. Put on a jacket.”

“But I really have to finish this paper,” Laura protested. Her heart was only half in it, and she looked in despair at her computer screen.

“You can finish it tomorrow,” Carmilla said. “Live a little.”

“Where are we going at midnight anyway?” she asked after a moment.

“You'll see.” Carmilla took Laura's jacket off its hook and held it out. “Coming?”

\---

Laura was glad she'd brought the jacket. It was still pretty cold for spring. She followed Carmilla across campus towards the Lustig theater, hands tucked inside her pockets.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked again, and Carmilla gave her the same response.

“You'll see.”

Carmilla led her to the back door of the theater. An alarming number of cigarette butts littered the ground around it, but Carmilla walked right over them and wiggled the door's handle. It gave way beneath her fingers and she opened it.

“Are you sure we're allowed to be in here?” Laura asked nervously, peering into the blackness she was confronted with.

“Of course,” Carmilla said. When laura didn't look reassured, she added, “would I ever get you in trouble?”

“Yes. Yes you would.”

Carmilla laughed. “I'm not gonna get you in trouble. I promise.”

Laura crossed in front of her into the dark, eyes narrowed suspiciously. Carmilla shut the door, plunging them into darkness, and Laura yelped.

“One second...” There was a click as she turned on a flashlight, illuminating the staircase in front of them. “Up we go.”

By the time they got to the top Laura was convinced they'd climbed the height of the building twice over. They were faced with another blank, official-looking door, and Carmilla tried the handle. It too was open.

“You ready?” she asked, looking at Laura, standing behind her. Laura nodded. When Carmilla opened the door and she stepped onto the roof of the building, it was as though her breath had been stolen from her lungs. Laura had never seen so many stars all at once; it looked like a symphony above her. The building had blocked most of the campus lights and the stars were left free and clear. Carmilla nudged her forward gently, then closed the door behind them.

“There are so many,” Laura said without looking down. “I had no idea.” She caught herself, corrected, “I mean I _knew_ there were a lot of stars I've just never seen them before.”

Carmilla reached to to take her hand, and Laura looked at her. Her hair seemed to catch the light, like a million tiny stars were tangled between the strands. They glittered on her eyelashes and reflected in her eyes.

“C'mon,” she said, giving Laura a little tug. “This isn't the whole thing.”

A space had been swept clean in the center of the building, a picnic laid out for them on a big blue sheet.

“A picnic?”

“Do you not like it?” Carmilla asked, worry rounding the edges of her words.

“No, no.” Laura looked from her to the picnic, then back to her. “I love it.”

\---

The champagne bottle was half empty by the time they finished their food. Or, Laura finished her food. Carmilla ate some, but mostly she talked. Laura had never heard her talk so much in her life, telling funny stories about the trouble she got into back in the twenties and thirties, correcting history books, quoting authors she'd met and politicians she'd danced with. Sometimes when Laura thought about how old Carmilla was she felt very small and very distant, like Carmilla was an ocean and Laura would never know her depths. But this was like Carmilla giving Laura a scuba suit and diving with her, showing her the world, remaking it all over again.

“You've seen so much,” Laura said when she picked up her champagne flute again. “Sometimes I'm kind of jealous.”

Carmilla shrugged, then turned to lay on her back, looking up at the stars. “It's not that different. Better technology. More rights.” She smiled wryly. “Sort of.” She paused for a moment, took a deep breath then let it out slowly.

“What's it like?” Laura asked before she could stop herself. “I'm sorry,” she said hastily. “I didn't mean to-”

“Cupcake, it's okay,” Carmilla interrupted. “It's long. Sometimes I don't believe I'm actually here. It feels like I've barely blinked and all of that time is suddenly gone, or like this is a dream and I'll wake up back in 1698. Other times it feels like the rest of it is a dream and only right now is real. Which is probably more correct.”

Laura reached for her hand and turned it over between hers, tracing the creases on her palm, the edges of her fingernails, the little scars, invisible if you didn't know where to find them. They were the only traces of the centuries of experience under the surface of those hands. Carmilla closed her eyes and let out another deep breath.

Laura kissed her palm, and Carmilla looked up at her, galaxies swirling behind her eyes. She entwined their fingers and said, “I'm glad you're here. Right now.”

Carmilla gave her a small smile. “Me too.”

 

 

 


End file.
